


Powerless

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Voltron Oneshots [47]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Episode: s03e04 Hole in the Sky, Evil Alteans (Voltron), Fantastic Racism, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Guilt, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Mind Control, Protective Allura (Voltron), Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 17:16:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18815419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: Turns out going into another reality where Galra are hated is a bad idea when one of your paladins is Galra. Who woulda thunk?





	Powerless

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all I have been writing so many random oneshots that aren't on my to write list and my works in progress are sobbing.

Allura had made some mistakes in her life, she could admit that. Especially where the Galra and war were concerned. She could admit she’d made a series of mistakes that day in bringing them here. 

She just never thought that one of them would be trusting her own people. 

But here they were. In the dusty brig of an old Altean deep space ship, trapped halfway between two realities, with golden Altean gladiators standing guard over them. They hadn’t been fast enough to get away, even after Sven’s sacrifice-- she’d taken just a moment too long to realize, trusted a second too far. And now they were here in chains, weaponless, and Keith was gone.

They’d taken him away what seemed like vargas ago. The scientist in his blue robes had come into the cell, casually sauntering past them like he was on a stroll through a park, when really he was scanning them with some handheld device. Allura had had a terrible feeling she knew what it was, and when the screen lit up red and they dragged Keith out of the cell, that feeling was only confirmed.

The others were frantic. Allura had been told about the hoktril by Hira, but they insisted that, no, she couldn’t understand until she’d seen it, the dead expression in the non-cog’s eyes, the way he turned oh so obediently at the snap of fingers, like a household pet doing tricks. 

She didn’t want to think about Keith like that. None of them did. Not wild, untamable Keith who never did as he was told even if it was Shiro telling him. But they didn’t get a choice. They weren’t the ones in control. 

She had no idea how many vargas had passed by the time the gladiators opened the cell door and hauled them, roughly and one by one, to their feet. Allura struggled a bit, made a show of shoving one of the gladiators into the wall with her shoulder, but then three others took hold of her, one keeping the barrel of its blaster pressed to the back of her head, and she had no choice but to subside. 

They were marched back to the bridge of the derelict ship, where Allura had made her biggest mistake in giving the ship the ability to pass through realities. There on the guiding platform stood Hira, an infuriatingly smug look on her thin face; on her right was the blue robed scientist with his hulking non-cog, and on her left…

Allura sucked in a breath through her teeth, and she wasn’t the only one. The whole team made the same sound at the sight of Keith standing next to the platform, tall and straight and absolutely still. His expression was flat, like he didn’t even see any of them in front of him, and the thought made Allura’s stomach twist. 

Down the line, Pidge whispered, “No. God, no, please,” and that’s all Allura heard before Hira was speaking over her.

“You now have a choice before you,  _ Princess  _ Allura.” She held her chin high as she spoke, clearly feeling superior to those before her in cuffs. “You can join the Altean Empire on your own choice, become an agent of peace and tranquility,  _ or,”  _ her smirk widened, “the choice will be made for you.”

Despite how her voice felt stuck in her throat, Allura cleared it and summoned up her best glare. 

“I will never help you. You are the antithesis of everything Altea stood for.”

Hira scowled. “Stands for, Princess. In our world, Altea still stands.” Without looking she raised her hand and snapped her fingers, and to Allura’s horror Keith turned to look at her without hesitation, waiting for orders. With his head turned she could see how his long hair had been shorn away to reveal the base of his skull, along with the white metal embedded there. It took all of her willpower not to be sick right then.

This was her fault. She’d done this to Keith.

“Galra,” said Hira in an imperious tone, “provide them some incentive.”

She gave no further instructions, but Keith seemed to know what she meant, as he summoned his bayard to his hand and raised the blade. Settling the edge along the palm of his opposite hand, he pressed down and pulled, slicing through the black flightsuit and into his hand. 

The others all cried out as Keith raised his hand and turned it to them, showing off the slash dripping red blood to the floor, but Allura couldn’t make a sound. She couldn’t even breathe. 

“Why are you doing this?” Pidge shouted at Hira, her voice tight the way it always got when she was angry. “Why do you have to convince us? Why don’t you just put those things on all of us and get it over with?”

“Pidge!” Lance hissed, “Don’t remind her!”

Hira’s mouth flattened into a frown, her eyes narrowing. “As much as I would prefer that option, only certain species are allowed to be given hoktrils.”

Allura had the sudden urge to snort at her words.  _ Given hoktrils.  _ Like they were gifts. 

The commander’s smirk returned. “As it happens, the Galra were the first. Due consequence for their rebellion. Galra, again.”

Keith blinked once, then still without expression raised his bayard, this time laying it across his left shoulder, in a mirror of the scar he bore on the other side from his Blade trials. 

“Keith, don’t!” Hunk tried crying, but Keith didn’t listen. He pressed down, slowly increasing pressure until his breastplate gave a sickening  _ crack  _ and splintered apart, and the edge of his weapon sliced into his flesh. Red ran down the black blade of his bayard and spattered to the floor at his feet, and although he didn’t wince or show any sign of pain, Allura could tell the wound was significant when the blood began to leak over the edges of his cracked armor, leaving hideous streaks over the white. 

Lance squirmed beside Allura, ignoring the warning whine of the gladiators blaster at his back. 

“Stop! Stop, make him stop!”

Hira sneered at them. “I will. If your princess surrenders to the Empire.”

Allura shook her head mutely, only knowing she had begun crying when the tears dripped off her chin. A part of her wanted to say yes, to save Keith, but she knew if she did Keith would never forgive her for it. 

Hira shrugged, like it didn’t matter to her one way or the other, and snapped her fingers again. This time Keith held his bayard out at an awkward angle, pressing the tip of the sword to his abdomen, and the other paladins exploded into a cacophony of protests and unheard pleas. 

“That’ll kill him!” wailed Hunk. 

“Haven’t you fuckers ever heard of ethics?” snarled Pidge.

“I thought life was your first priority!” argued Lance.

Allura still couldn’t speak. She could only stare-- stare into Keith’s blank eyes and think fervent apologies. 

She’d lost one Black Paladin already, and it seemed she was about to lose another one.

“We have pods.” Hira had to shout to be heard over the paladin’s frantic cries. “He will not die-- not until we want him to.”

At that moment several things happened. There was a distant  _ boom,  _ and the whole ship rocked to the left, sending gladiators and people alike falling into each other as they were tossed off their feet. Amongst the sounds of creaking metal and further explosions in other parts of the ship there was the sound of glass shattering, then Hunk gave a triumphant shout as he sprang up, his hands free. 

Somewhere in the chaos, Hira screeched, “Galra, stop them!”

Then a freed Pidge released Allura’s cuffs, and she barely took a second to consider before she selected her target and charged. 

The bridge was in utter chaos. Everywhere gold and white metal flashed as the gladiators attempted to subdue their prisoners. Allura looked for Hira, or the bespectacled scientist, her former despair transforming into rage hungry for vengeance, but she couldn’t find them between all the robotic bodies. They might have already fled back to their own ship, planning to take the comet and leave them stranded there. 

She couldn’t linger on that point long. Through the battle haze something red caught her eye, and when she turned everything slowed down.

The Princess felt every heave of breath in her chest, every strand of hair that had escaped her bun, every drop of sweat rolling down her spine, every ache in her muscles. She felt all of these things and absolutely disregarded them.

Because across the room, too far for her to reach even if she sprinted, Pidge was pinned to the floor underneath Keith, his blood speckling across her armor, and his bayard was raised and pointed at her heart. 

She watched it come down in slow motion. Pidge screamed, the sound like a laser whine in Allura’s ringing ears, and the Green Paladin squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away, not wanting to look at Keith’s face as he killed her.

Allura took a chance.

“Galra, halt!”

Keith froze in place, the tip of his bayard almost brushing Pidge’s chestplate. Pidge was panting in terror, tears leaking from her cheeks as she struggled under Keith’s hold. And still he sat there, unmoving, like a video on pause. 

Allura, with a nervous gulp, took a few steps closer through the carnage and spoke again. 

“Stand down.”

His movement was awkward as he released Pidge and climbed to his feet. He still moved fluidly and quickly, the way he always did, but somewhere underneath there was a jerkiness to it. Like a puppet on strings. 

Pidge scrambled away. She was intercepted by Hunk, who wrapped her in a hug and tried to calm her trembles, while Lance made his way to Allura’s side. He had a slight limp. 

“Allura, are you ok?”

Apparently the battle was over. 

She swallowed hard, and without looking away from Keith, answered, “I’m fine.”

Lance followed her line of sight. “What are we gonna do?”

“Take him home. Maybe--” her voice cracked and she quickly cleared her throat to hide it. “Maybe Coran will know what to do.”

And Lance, after all of that, only looked tired. 

He nodded without a word.

* * *

 

Coran was horrified at the condition in which they returned. He put Lance in a pod even before hearing their explanation, and once he had he turned white with fury. Allura had never seen him make such an expression before as when they brought Keith to the infirmary, but all the same Coran handled him with gentle, patient hands. 

Keith hadn’t been able to fly Black in his current state. They’d had to disband Voltron and fly out individually, Yellow and Blue working together to tow Black, and when they landed Lance had come out of Red’s cockpit grimacing. 

When Allura asked, he merely said, “Red was screaming,” and nothing more. 

Now he was sat on the examination table in the infirmary, slightly slumped over like a poorly posed doll. His face still blank, even as it grew paler from blood loss. 

It took Hunk, Pidge, and Coran three vargas to figure out how to remove the hoktril. Allura hovered the whole time, wrapping bandages around Keith’s wounds as they worked and keeping an eye on Lance’s pod, letting the work keep her mind busy so that she didn’t have to acknowledge what was happening inside. 

She herself wasn’t sure. Something like panic, something like terror, and something like sorrow. Something like regret. 

Eventually the engineers figured it out. Hunk looked away while Pidge and Coran carefully removed the metal plate from the back of Keith’s head, picking out tiny wires and receptors with steady hands that surprised Allura, given the circumstances. When it was finally gone, when the connection was finally severed, Keith’s eyes fluttered shut and his whole body went limp.

For a moment Allura had tasted the panic she’d been shoving down, until Coran reassured her that he was alright, just unconscious. They put him in a pod to heal his injuries and the surgery site, and a few minutes later Lance came out of his. 

He didn’t say anything at first when he emerged. He simply stood for a moment, leaning on Hunk’s shoulder, then a weary smile crossed his face.

“Red’s quiet again.”

It wasn’t for five more vargas that Allura finally found herself mostly alone in the infirmary, watching Keith’s face in the pod. It was still tranquil, but there was a softness to it now. Genuine, an expression made from truly relaxed muscles, rather than a mask forced on. 

Finally, the tears began to sting her eyes. The pod before her blurred, and when she felt Coran’s hand on her shoulder, the dam broke. 

“Oh, Princess,” he cooed, and pulled her into his shoulder. And Allura wept.

She wept for her mistakes. She wept for Keith. She wept for Shiro. She wept for all the paladins, so far away from home, these terrible things happening to them. 

She wept for Altea. 

Coran stood the whole time, letting her ruin his jacket, and rubbed her back until it ceased to shudder.

* * *

 

The next day, gathered with the rest of the team and waiting for Keith’s pod to open, Allura was quiet. They all were. None of them talked about it. None of them brought up the point that the whole thing was Allura’s fault. No, instead they talked about Keith. 

Pidge was worried that the operation might’ve had side effects. Hunk was concerned that they hadn’t removed the hoktril properly and Keith would still be under their control, or worse. Only Lance was optimistic, convinced that if Keith was still trapped, Red would’ve told him. 

Despite that, they all held their breath when the pod slid open. 

Keith staggered forward a step, but righted himself before any of them could move to help. He paused, still as before, and Allura’s throat tightened. 

_ It didn’t work, he’s still under their control, he’s going to be stuck like that forever and we won’t be able to help him-- _

Then his eyes fluttered open. He blinked a few times, then frowned to himself like he was confused, and Allura’s spirit  _ soared.  _ Until his eyes fell upon the group of them and filled with fear.

“No,” he murmured. Pidge took a step forward, her hand raised; Keith jerked away and fell to the floor with a harsh  _ clang  _ that made them all jump. 

“No!” The shout rang through the room. Allura felt as though she’d just been slapped, or like a fog had been lifted away-- everything that had been muffled before under shock was now blazing like a sun. The lights. The sound of the others, all talking at once in an attempt to calm Keith. The smell of disinfectant. 

She moved forward. The other Paladins made way for her, until she was right before Keith, kneeling on the cold floor where he’d retreated, putting his back to a wall and curling up. His fingers grasped at the sleeves of the pod suit with such strength it nearly made the fabric tear. 

“St-stay away,” he said with a harsh shudder. “I d-don’t want to hu-urt you.”

“You won’t, Keith.” She kept her voice as soft and kind as she knew how. “We took it out. They can’t control you anymore.”

Keith was shaking. His hands hovered near his throat, and one of them kept running over the patch of short hair where the hoktril had been, over and over until Allura reached up and took his hand in her own. 

“You’re safe now. I promise.”

“But I-- I hurt P-Pidge.”

“Keith, I’m fine,” said Pidge from somewhere behind Allura, her voice in a tone of fond exasperation. “You hurt yourself more than you hurt me.”

His breath stuttered and his eyes turned glassy with tears. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to, I didn’t mean it, I swear I didn’t.”

“We know,” Allura soothed, encasing his hand with both of her own and squeezing gently. “We know, Keith, it’s not your fault.”

He closed his eyes and shuddered. Allura knew there were things he wasn’t saying. Things about the experience that had scared him, that had most-likely scarred him. Things he didn’t want to admit to or think about. She couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d felt, having all of his free will taken away but still being forced to watch what his body was being commanded to do. 

She couldn’t imagine. But she could be here for him. And as she drew him into a soft embrace, she swore that she would be. 

  
  



End file.
